Author's infos

Introduction:

Back then, they were never friends, but now they had much more in common

When I was sixteen years old, one my dad’s old drinking buddies said to me, one day, “Son, you probably don’t realise it now, but these are the best years of your life. Once you finish school, it’s all downhill from there. Mark my words on that.” My heart kind of sank when he told me that, and I thought, You mean, this is as good as it gets?

To put it, mildly, my school years weren’t the happiest years of my life. I was skinny, kind of shy, and I didn’t have a lot of self-confidence. As for girls, well, just forget all about that, too. They weren’t interested in me at all, and I used to get all kinds of crap about being so skinny. My friends were mostly from the non-athletic group, although, being built like a greyhound, I was always good at running, both on the track and cross-country, so at least I got on okay with the school sports master, Mr Shersingh, and he didn’t give me a hard time like he did with the others. Unlike all my friends, I would turn up for the school athletics carnivals, and I’d usually do okay in the running events, but that didn’t make me any more popular with my peers.

I remember one guy in my year at school, Eddie Clayton, who hung out with all the “tough guys.” He was a big guy, who played representative football for the school team, and for some reason, he took a dislike towards me right from the start of high school, even though I hardly ever had anything to do with him. One day, in English class, while we waited for the teacher to arrive, he took exception to something I said, even though I wasn’t even talking to him, and he said, “You’re a pissweak little poofter, Roberts!” I tried to ignore him, but he went on with. “I see you hanging out with your faggot mates all the time. You’re queer, you little cunt, aren’t you?” After that, he would often call me a “poofter” or a “queer” in front of his tough-guy friends, and although I hated it, he was twice my size, so there wasn’t a lot I could do about it.

Another person in my year at school was Linda Moffatt. She was good looking, in fact, she was a knockout, with long, wavy hair that was a kind of light strawberry blonde colour, and she had fair skin, blue-grey eyes, and a pretty face, with covergirl features. She had a slim but curvy figure that filled out her school uniform remarkably well, and don’t even get me started on her legs, or her butt in a pair of jeans. She hung out with a bunch of girls who all seemed to love themselves almost as much as they loved giving me a hard time for being so skinny. At the school athletics carnivals, they’d sing out “Muscle Man,” and “The Incredible Hulk” when they saw me, and I tried to laugh at the stupidity of it, but I used to wish I wasn’t so thin, and of course it didn’t do much for my self esteem, either.

One day, in my second last year of high school, we were in biology class, in the science lab, and we had our textbook open at a chapter on the human musculoskeletal system. The page was illustrated with a black and white photograph of a big, muscular body-builder type, in the classical pose, showing off his rippling physique. Linda came over and slid onto the stool next to me, and she pointed at the picture in my textbook, and said, “Is that a picture of you?” Back then, I was kind of lost for words, so I didn’t even answer, and she just slid off the stool, and went back to her own desk, to giggle with her friends at her witty escapade.

A couple of times during the following year, she would speak to me at school, as though she was trying to start a conversation, but I was a little awkward in responding, because of the crap I’d taken from her in the past, so we never really got to know each other in those days. Even so, if I wasn’t friends with her, I have to admit I fantasised over her from time to time, but, hey, I was only human, and I was a teenage boy, wasn’t I?

When I finished school at eighteen, there was a recession on, and jobs were a little hard to get. Not only that, but I had no real idea what I wanted to do with my life, but I felt like I had to do something constructive, so after a lot of soul-searching, I surprised everyone, including myself, by joining the army. People say the army makes a man of you, but I like to think I at least gave them some worthwhile raw material to work with. My recruit training in the army made me fitter and stronger than I had ever been, and when I got fitter, I felt better, and began to like myself more. I put on a little weight, but not all that much, so I was now lean-built instead of just skinny, but at least I was well-toned.

After my recruit training at Kapooka, I was assigned to the Royal Australian Corps of Transport, where I learned to drive trucks, heavy equipment, cranes, and small watercraft. I only did six years in the army, but in that time I went places, and did things I would never have expected to have done otherwise, and I regularly faced both physical and mental challenges that made me a stronger, more confident person, who was closer to my own potential. I feel like I owed a lot to the army, and I loved my time as a soldier, but after six years, I was ready for a change.

At twenty-four, and straight out of the army, I joined a logistics company that actively recruited ex-army personnel, and I spent the first year in Sydney, before they offered me a transfer to a city halfway across the state, and I accepted. I made a good life for myself out there, and a few years later I married a local girl named Wendy, and a new chapter of my life began. At thirty-four, I was an assistant manager, and a year later, I was made area manager for the region. I was earning very good money by that time, and I thought I had a great life. I was married to a beautiful woman, I had two great kids, a nice home in a good part of town, and everything seemed to be going well. Maybe life was just too good, or at least, fate seemed to think so, because it seems like fate must have decided I needed to be taken down a peg or two, and just after I turned thirty-seven, Wendy left me for another woman.

That’s right, you did read that correctly. Wendy, the love of my life, left me for the nursing unit manager in the orthopaedics department at the local hospital, and I never even saw it coming. Right up until our last week together, our sex life was great, or at least I thought it was, and everything seemed to be going well, and then I was dumped for a woman. I felt gutted, I felt lost, I felt like I was destroyed.

I tried to minimise the disruption to my kids’ lives by moving into a small two-bedroom apartment in the middle of town, so they could stay in our house with their mother. I got a place with an extra bedroom, so they could sleep over, and we arranged for access visits, and everything else that goes on after a marriage breaks up, and I got on with life the best way I could.

Somehow, losing Wendy to another woman seemed to be worse than if it was another man. I don’t know why, because the result is the same, but it just felt worse. I kept wondering if it was me, if I had turned her the other way somehow, if I was lacking in something, that made her turn lesbian. It shook me to the core, I can assure you, and I know a lot of guys would be out looking for a new woman straight away, but I didn’t feel ready to go back into the arena. Not yet, anyway.

About a year before Wendy left me, I went to a manager’s conference in Melbourne, where I ran into a guy called Warren Baxter, who was an old friend from my school days. We had been pretty good friends in high school, and I found out we’d been working for the same company for years, but neither us knew about the other one. After that, we used to keep in contact by email and the occasional phone call, but seeing I had left my home town almost as soon as I left school, Warren was the only person I still knew from those far-off days, although he would occasionally give me some news on people we had known as teenagers.

Now that I was suddenly and unexpectedly single, I had a lot more time on my hands, and about eight months after my marriage broke up, I got an email from Warren, telling me there was a twenty-year school reunion coming up, and asking me if I was interested in going.

Twenty years! I thought, Has it really been that long? Then, I thought about it and wondered if it was really worth going in the first place. My parents had long since retired and moved to Queensland, so I hadn’t even visited the city where I grew up for years, and I wasn’t even sure I wanted to revisit that forgotten, and forgettable, part of my life again. First off, I told Warren I’d be giving it a miss, but then I reconsidered. My social life was almost zero, but that was mostly because I hadn’t felt like going out much after Wendy left me, so I gave it some thought, and decided a few days away might do me some good.

I could have flown down for a two-day stay, but I decided to take a week out of my annual leave, and drive down to the coast, book into a motel for a few days, and in addition to going to the reunion, I thought I might check out a few places from my youth that I hadn’t seen for two decades. After all, I had plenty of time on my hands now, so I rang Warren to let him know I was going.

In a week or so, I got an invitation for the reunion in the mail, telling me it was a semi-formal occasion, to be held in the function centre of a luxury hotel that wasn’t even built when I left town, and the address showed it was just down the street from my old high school. After I got the invitation, I found I was looking forward to the night, and it occurred to me that apart from my marriage, I was doing quite okay at that time in my life, and I started wondering what my former classmates had been up to.

At nearly thirty-eight, I still had all my hair, I hadn’t gone grey, and I was in pretty good shape overall. I was about thirty pounds heavier than I was at eighteen, but that was a good thing, because I was such a skinny kid, and although I was still pretty lean built for my height, I had kept my fitness up. I kind of wondered what everybody else looked like these days.

The reunion was to be held on a Saturday night, so I rang up and booked a room in the same hotel where it was going to be held, and after a week at work, I packed my car on Friday afternoon, and headed back to my home town, wondering along the way who I might meet again, and what everyone had been up to over the years. As I drove along, I thought back to those long-ago days, when I was a shy, skinny kid, and I thought of the things I got up to with my friends, and how simple life was, but amongst the nostalgia, one or two bad memories came back as well. Sometimes, Memory Lane can take you through some bad neighbourhoods.

As I got into town, taking the turn-off from the highway, past suburbs that were just open fields in my youth, past the old war memorial, towards the city centre, I actually got butterflies in my stomach. I didn’t expect that, I thought to myself.

I got to the hotel in the late evening, so I went straight to bed, without even looking around town, as I had planned, but as I checked in, I saw a sign already in place outside the door leading upstairs to the function room, saying “Lake Chifley High School Class of 1988 Twenty Year Reunion.” When I saw that sign, and when I read the name of my old school, with the school crest underneath it, and the latin motto, “Vultus versus lux lucis,” the nostalgia seemed to return for a few moments, and I wondered if I was going soft in the head, feeling that way about a school I didn’t even like going to in the first place.

The next day, I got up, had breakfast, and then I went for a drive, for a look around town. I took a detour past the house where I grew up, now remodelled since my parents sold it, and I checked out a few places where I played, or hung out as a kid. Naturally, the memories, both good and bad, came flooding back, as I drove around town, occasionally stopping just to breathe the old, familiar air again.

The reunion was due to start at 6pm, with dinner and dancing, and seeing it was semi formal, I wore my best suit, and I walked up from my room just after six. I met up with Warren and his pregnant wife, Casey, who had a coke while Warren and I had a couple of beers, and the evening began. Seeing and meeting all these people from my youth, after so long, was a strange experience, as I looked around, sometimes recognising people immediately, and sometimes having to ask their names, because I had forgotten, or just didn’t recognise them. Some of the guys had lost their hair, some had gone grey, many of them had put on weight, and some of the girls who had been lookers back in the day were now plump and matronly middle-aged women. One girl, who wouldn’t even talk to me as a teenager, walked over and hugged me, saying “Kevin, I haven’t seen you for years! Where’ve you been? What’ve you been up to?” and then gushing and talking like we were old buddies or something. Almost everyone had a husband or a wife with them, and I felt a little conscious of the fact that I was there on my own, but with so many people from my past coming up to shake hands, hug me, or exchange stories with me, I didn’t have much time to think about that.

For three quarters of an hour, we all stood around talking and drinking, and there was an excited buzz of conversation, with plenty of laughter mixed in, going around the room, and the waiters started to bring in the tables with food for the serve-yourself buffet dinner. People were forming into groups, and everyone was working out where to sit for dinner, and as I looked around for Warren and his wife, thinking I may as well join them, I heard a female voice to my left, saying a plain, and simple, “Hello.”

I looked over to my left, and I saw Linda Moffatt, or at least that’s the name I knew her by. I expected she’d be married by now, and she was standing a few feet away, looking at me, with a slightly ironic smile. My first impression was that the years had been good to her, because she didn’t look much different from the way I remembered her at school. She still had that same light, strawberry blonde hair, now a little shorter, and if her face was no longer “covergirl,” she didn’t look thirty-eight, either. She was wearing a sleeveless, knee-length, red satin evening dress, with ruffles at the shoulders, that was showing a little of her very tidy cleavage, before hugging her figure on the way down, and flaring a little at the bottom. That figure it was hugging was still curvy, but now a little more rounded and womanly than when she was at school, and I have to say she looked elegant and impressive. With her fair complexion, and her strawberry blonde hair, that red dress really suited her, and I knew straight away who she was, but I must have hesitated, taking in what I saw, because she said, “Remember me?”

I nodded, and said, “Yeah, of course I do.” I smiled, offered a handshake, and as she accepted, I said, “You’re Linda Moffatt.”

“I like to think I’ve improved on the inside,” I said, offering her a smile of my own, and I added, “You haven’t changed much, either.”

“Well, I’m older,” Linda answered, and she added, “and I like to think I’m wiser.” I wasn’t sure what she meant by that, but she made eye contact when she said it, as though she was scanning me for my reaction. I looked at her left hand, and I didn’t see a wedding ring, and I think she knew I was looking, because she fidgeted with her hand for a moment, as though seeing me looking down there made her uncomfortable.

“I haven’t seen you around for years,” Linda said.

“I haven’t been around for years,” I answered, smiling so I didn’t sound abrupt saying that, “I joined the army straight out of school, and moved away. I haven’t lived here since I was eighteen.”

“The army?” Linda said, looking a little surprised, “You never struck me as the army type.”

“That’s what my drill sergeant told me on the last day of basic training,” I answered, “He was surprised, too.”

“So, are you still in?” Linda asked, smiling, and seeming like she was interested.

“No,” I said, shaking my head, and I went on to tell her what I was doing for a job these days. I asked what she was up to, and she told me she was assistant manager at a local credit union, and we had a conversation about life and work, and what we had done for the last twenty years. In the back of my mind, it felt strange to be talking to her like that, considering we hardly knew each other at school, and then considering the sort of contact that we did have there, but the truth was she was a very attractive woman, and I was enjoying talking to her.

Our conversation kind of faltered after a few minutes, and someone announced over the PA system that dinner was now served, and Linda looked around and said, “So, are you married now? Have you got someone here with you?” She kind of shrugged as she said that, and I stammered, “No. I’m umm, married, but we’re separated.” I swallowed, almost hating to acknowledge the fact to another person, and I added, “Umm, going through a divorce.”

I couldn’t help sighing after I spoke, but Linda said, rather flatly, “That’s a coincidence.”

“Why is that?” I asked, thinking, Surely she’s not going to tell me she’s going through a divorce, too.

Linda took a deep breath, and then she sighed, and said, “I’m separated. I was married, but…, ” and she stopped, as though she was going to tell me more, but had changed her mind.

“I think I know how you feel,” I said, truthfully.

“Yeah, I suppose you would,” Linda said, nodding thoughtfully, and then she brightened a little, and said, “So, I guess you’re here on your own then.”

I nodded, and she said, “Well, seeing you’re here on your own and I’m here on my own, why don’t we sit together for dinner?” She looked me in the eyes, waiting for me to answer.

“I think I’d like that,” I said, smiling at her. Almost beyond my control, my eyes fell to her cleavage for a very brief moment, until I caught myself, and when I looked back up, I saw that she knew I looked, but she just gave me a tiny smile, almost like she was pleased with herself.

Linda and I served ourselves dinner, and found a vacant table, and she sat on my right as we ate. We shared a bottle of white wine, and we talked about our memories of our school days, about the eccentricities of certain teachers back then, about things that went on at school over the years, as well as life since we finished school. It was kind of odd to be discussing all these shared memories with Linda, because we were virtually strangers, but I found myself liking her for her ironic sense of humour, her wit, and for a kind of vulnerable-yet-stylish thing that she had going for her. Not only that, but I was in the company of a rather beautiful woman, so I was really enjoying myself, and the thought occurred to me that I would have missed all this if had gone with my original decision not to come to the reunion in the first place.

Now and again, people we had known at school would come me over to speak to us, and at one stage, a girl came over to speak to Linda, with her husband in tow. She said to him, “This is Linda Clayton, one of my old school friends,” and they shook hands over the table. After a few minutes of animated conversation, they left to speak to some other people, and I said to Linda, “So, is Clayton your married name?”

“Yes,” she answered, and the tone of her voice suggested she was not happy about that right now. She looked at me, and added, “I married Eddie Clayton.” She sighed and said, “I didn’t mention his name before because I didn’t feel like talking about him.”

“That’s understandable,” I said.

I didn’t expect Linda to continue, but after a short pause, she said, “Eddie Fucking Clayton. Excuse the language, but you’ve got no idea what he did to me.”

“No idea,” I said, shaking my head, and Linda went on with, “We got married when we were twenty-four. Then, thirteen years later, he left me for another man!"

I felt my face falling, and I said, “Oh my God!”

I could see from the look on Linda’s face that she was surprised at my response, and she looked at me like I was some kind of dickhead, mocking her by over-reacting to her misfortune. She shook her head, and began to look irritated, but I said, “You’re not going to believe this, but Wendy left me for a woman. I think I know just how you feel.”

Linda shook her head again, and said, with a kind of wondering amazement, “So, you do know what it’s like.” Her eyes widened, and she stiffened in her seat, and said, “Gutted, you feel gutted, don’t you?”

“That’s the word,” I said, “That’s the exact word for how I felt, too.”

“And you wonder,” Linda said, almost like she was reciting something that had gone through her mind many times, “You wonder if it was something you did, if you made them change. If you’re lacking in something. If it was your fault.”

“I know,” I said, surprised that Linda was almost quoting, word for word, thoughts that had gone through my own head over the past months. She was now turned in her chair, facing me, and I aw all kinds of emotions on her face, all at once, anger, pain, shame, sympathy for me, all kinds of expressions, and she reached over with her right hand, placing it on the cuff of my left sleeve on the table, resting it there, and she looked at my face, shaking her head, and said, “I can’t believe it’s happened to you, too. It must be something in the water.” She smiled, ruefully, and added. “We had two kids, and thirteen years, and he leaves me for a bloke!” She looked at her hand, resting on my sleeve, and took it way abruptly, like she had momentarily forgotten herself, but I was silent for a moment, thinking of the times Eddie Clayton had called me a “poofter” and a “queer” when we were at school. What a prick! I thought.

“Anyway,” Linda said, patting the table for emphasis, “Forget them. We’re here to enjoy ourselves. I’ve hardly been out for months, so Eddie’s not going to spoil it for me tonight.” By now, the DJ had started to play some music, and a few couples were already dancing. He had put on a slow song, and Linda looked over towards the dance floor, and after a moment’s thoughtful pause, she said, “Do you, umm, dance, Kevin?”

“A little,” I said, and I have to admit the thought of holding this pretty lady in my arms was rather appealing, but before I answered, Linda said, with a slightly playful note in her voice, “So, I don’t suppose a dance is out of the question, then?”

“I would like that very much,” I answered, smiling, because I just couldn’t help it. We got up and went to the floor, and we started to slow-dance to the music. Linda’s curvy body felt good in my arms, but I maintained the correct stance, not wanting to take any liberties. After a few moments, Linda said, “You dance pretty well.”

“I took lessons,” I said, looking into her pretty eyes, “When Wendy and I first got married, we took dancing lessons together. You know what it’s like. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other, so it was a good excuse to maul each other in public.”

“Are you serious?” Linda asked, like she thought I was pulling her leg.

“Only half,” I said, and then, because it was true, I added, “You dance pretty well yourself. Have you had lessons?”

“I used to teach dancing,” Linda answered, with a hint of pride, “It was the second job I ever had, when I was twenty-two.” Her smile was now happy, and for a brief moment, I had a lump in my throat, as I slow-danced with such an elegant, pretty and stylish woman, someone I could truthfully claim to have known since kindergarten, but had never really known at all. We danced for two songs, and by now we had moved around on the floor, to the doors leading onto the balcony, and Linda looked out and said, “Do you want to go outside? Maybe get some air?”

“Come on,” I said, and we walked onto the balcony, with Linda on my right, and we looked over towards our old school, two hundred yards up the street.

“You can see the school from up here,” Linda said, looking over. She went quiet for a moment and said, “Twenty years is a long time.”

“Tell me about it,” I said, keeping my tone light. We were both leaning on the balcony, and Linda moved closer and turned so she was now resting with her back against the railing, looking at me.

“I was a bitch to you at school, wasn’t I?” she said, a little more serious.

I didn’t answer, and Linda smiled, and said, “Come on, Kevin, you can say it. I was, wasn’t I?”

“That was along time ago,” I said, shrugging my shoulders, “We were all just kids back then.”

“I know,” she continued, “But I was still a bitch. And then when I got over myself a bit towards the end, and tried to talk to you, I couldn’t get a conversation out of you.” I was surprised she even remembered, but she went on again, with, “I guess I couldn’t blame you.”

“Well, I’m talking to you now,” I said, smiling at her, enjoying the moment with her, even if she was just going over long-forgotten crap from the past. Linda tilted her head, and looked me up and down, and said, “Do you want to dance again?”

“I like the sound of that,” I said, and I turned towards the door to go back inside, but Linda took my left hand in her right hand, and stopped me. “No. Out here,” she said, her smile now slightly mischievous, “Let’s do it out here. I like it out here.”

We took each other in the waltzing position on the balcony, and we began dancing to the music playing inside. Once again, I thought to myself that I could have missed out on this if I had stayed away, as I had first planned, but Linda interrupted my thoughts as we danced.

“We’re a pair of tragics, aren’t we?” Linda said, but her tone didn’t sound tragic. She looked up at me for my response.

“Depends how you look at it,” I said, but I added, “But, yeah, it is pretty sad.” Somehow my tone didn’t match what I was saying, either.

“Eddie was always a handful,” Linda said, staring into space as we danced, “but when I married him, I thought I could change him.”

“And did you?” I asked, looking down at her.

“Well, considering he turned gay on me,” Linda started, and she pulled a face like a little kid waiting for a balloon to pop, and added, “I hope not,” finishing with a quick giggle.

“I doubt if it was you,” I said, and I wasn’t sure if I should continue, but I added, “Look at your reflection in the window over there,” and I turned her gently, so she could see herself reflected in the double glass doors leading into the function room, and I said, “Somehow, I just don’t think someone like you could turn a guy off women.” Linda smiled at me, but she didn’t answer straight away.

“You know how I said you hadn’t changed much?” she asked. I nodded, and answered, “Yeah,” as I smiled back at her.

“Well, you have changed,” she started, as we kept on dancing to the music coming from inside the function room, “I hardly knew you at school, and I was just a nasty bitch, anyway, but then in Year 12, I’d hear you talking to your friends a couple of times, and I realised you sounded like a funny, interesting kind of guy.” She looked up at me, and went on with, “I tried to talk to you, but you wouldn’t talk to me.” She swallowed, and continued with, “I guess I knew it was my fault for being such a turd in the first place, and then when we finished school, I never saw you again.”

Linda pulled me in a little closer, holding me a little tighter, still dancing, and she said, “And then, twenty years later, you pop up out of nowhere, and you’re tall, and you’ve got style, and confidence, and you’re dressed in a smart suit, and it turns out you really are this smart, funny, interesting kind of guy.”

Linda relaxed her right arm, still swaying with the music, and pulled me in even closer. I felt my desire for this pretty woman rising inside me, and she said, “I haven’t held a man in my arms for nearly a year.” I had no answer for that, so she went on with, “Where are you staying at the moment?”

“Here in the hotel,” I said. The thought that this could end with me taking her back to my room crossed my mind, but I dismissed it as wishful thinking.

“That’s not far away,” she said, now smiling, looking me in the eyes again. She looked down at the ground for a moment, and then back up at me, and she said, “Do you think you’d like to show me what your room looks like?”

“I could describe it for you,” I said, and I moved my left hand to her back, so we were now holding each other, just standing in the half light of the balcony, as the music played inside, and I couldn’t believe this was happening.

“I think I should see it first hand,” Linda said, with a mischievous look on her face.

“I don’t think I could describe it properly anyway,” I answered, “so that might be a better idea.”

Linda reached up, and put her right hand behind my head, pulling me towards her and kissing me on the mouth. Her kiss was warm and gentle, and it was certainly sexy, but it was also brief. It was more than enough to make me want more, and after breaking the kiss, she sighed, and in a breathy voice, she said, “I haven’t done that for a long time, either.” She kissed me again, holding the kiss a little longer this time, and then she said, “You’ve got me so I don’t know if I’m trying to seduce you, or if you’ve already seduced me, Kevin,” and she paused to swallow, and said, “but if you’re any kind of gentleman, I think now would be a good time for you to take me to your room.”

I still couldn’t believe this was happening, but Linda and I walked back into the function room, to the bar, where I bought a bottle of champagne, and asked for two glasses. As Linda and I were leaving the function room, with the champagne in my hand, my friend Warren caught my eye from across the room, and he looked at Linda and shook his head at me in disbelief. We walked past the reception desk, and down the hall to my room, talking quietly, and smiling at the things we said to each other.

We found my room, and I unlocked the door and let Linda walk in ahead of me. She put her handbag on the side table, and took the champagne from me, without speaking, and she placed it, along with the glasses, on the table as well. She turned to face me, and leaned back with her hands against the table behind her, and for a few exciting moments, I looked at her, standing there, looking beautiful in that red dress, with her strawberry blonde hair, framing her lovely face, smiling, waiting for me to make a move. A lump came to my throat, as I took in what I saw, and as much as I wanted this woman, and as much as she had triggered a yearning desire in me, I was savouring that incredible moment.

“What are you looking at?” Linda said, smiling because she knew anyway.

“You and I are old enough to say what we think,” I started, “so I’ll tell you what I’m looking at. I’m looking at you, because you are absolutely beautiful, and I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Come on,” Linda smiled, “now you’re giving me a big head.”

“No,” I said, my voice reflecting the dryness of my throat, “Your head is perfect.” I had to swallow before I could speak again.

“So,” Linda said, cocking her head, with that amazing, mischievous, girlish smile of hers, “Are you disrobing me with your eyes?” It was as though she would be happy for me to do just that.

“Not yet,” I answered, “You look so good with your clothes on, I haven’t got that far. I like the idea of undressing you, though.” Linda walked the few steps across to room to me, and placed her arms around my waist, holding my gaze, and she said, “Well, I’ll need to be within arm’s reach for that, won’t I?”

I put my arms around Linda’s shoulders, pulling her to me, kissing her, hot and hard on the mouth, holding the kiss, as the excitement washed through me, and as we broke the kiss, she reached behind herself, and moved my right hand to the zipper on her dress. Very gently, I unzipped her dress, feeling it loosen around her, and I placed the palm of my right hand on the smooth skin on the small of her back.

Linda responded by kissing me again, without speaking, and this time her tongue ventured forth a little, tentatively exploring my mouth. She broke the kiss, and I felt her warm breath on my face, as she sighed gently, and the very taste of her breath excited me even more. “Can we go and sit on the bed?” she whispered.

“Okay,” I said, smiling, feeling a sense of wonder that fate had given me this moment.

“I’m a little self-conscious about taking off my dress,” Linda said, “I’m not twenty years old any more, if you know what I mean.” I wanted to tell her how beautiful her body was, and how it wouldn’t matter to me if she wasn’t perfect without her clothes on, but I didn’t think she’d want to hear that. “Would you like me to look the other way?” I asked.

“What are you trying to do to me?” Linda giggled, “Don’t you think I want you enough as it is?” She shook her head playfully, and said, “And now you want to show me you’re caring and considerate as well? That’s not fair. You’ll have me writing your name all over my pencil case like a sixteen year old if this keeps up.”

“What if you just turn your back to me?” I suggested, “Although I really don’t think you’ve got anything to be ashamed of under that dress.” I looked down at her creamy, smooth breasts, and back at her eyes.

Linda started to walk backwards towards the bed, with her arms around my waist, pulling me with her, making eye contact, and as her loosened dress fell slightly at the front, I saw she had a red lace bra underneath. “I’ve thrown myself at you shamelessly tonight,” she said, quietly, “and you’re still making me feel special. Are you always like this?”

“What you see is what you get,” I said.

“And I like what I see,” Linda answered. “So, I think you should help me get undressed, so I can take you to bed for a while.” She pulled my face down for another soft and sexy kiss, and she said, “But you better be careful ‘cause after we finish, I might drug you and hide you in my basement, so I can keep you all to myself.”

“Have you got a basement?” I asked.

“No, that’s where the plan falls down,” she answered, “but I’m good at improvising, so watch out,” and then she added, “Now, can you help me out with this dress?”

Very gently, I peeled Linda’s dress away from her shoulders, and slipped it down at the front, exposing her red lace bra again. Her breasts were not large, but round and beautifully shaped, and her skin was smooth and fair. She stepped out of her dress, and placed it neatly on a chair beside the bed, slipped off her panty hose, and then she turned to look at me, standing now in just her red lace bra and matching bikini pants. I could see no reason for her to be ashamed of her unclothed body, because her curvy figure was still remarkably tidy, with only a few faint stretchmarks from bearing her children. I could also tell, though, that Linda felt a little uncomfortable standing there, practically naked, in front of me, and in a quiet voice, I said, “I’m glad you let me see you like that,” as she looked up to make eye contact, “because you look so beautiful, I’m getting a lump in my throat.”

“Have I given you any other lumps I should know about?” she asked, with that playful note in her voice again.

“We’ll get to that,” I replied, as she began to slip my jacket off. “You’re starting to look a little overdressed,” she said, and she placed my jacket neatly on the back of the chair as well. “If we go back to the reunion, we don’t want them seeing our clothes all wrinkly, and getting ideas about what we’ve been up to,” she said, as she smoothed out my jacket.

“Let ‘em talk,” I said, watching her, and then letting her remove my tie and unbutton my shirt, “I haven’t seen any of them for twenty years, anyway.”

“But I’ve got to live here,” Linda replied, as she placed my shirt on the chair as well.

She turned back to me, and I took her by the shoulders and kissed her pretty mouth again, and as I broke the kiss, I said, “It’s none of their business anyway.”

With her face close to mine, Linda said, “And speaking of business, you and I have something to attend to.” She lifted back the covers and slipped underneath, pulling them back over herself, and she said, “Are you going to join me?” I walked around to the opposite side of the bed and slipped off my trousers, before climbing in the bed, on Linda’s left.

For a brief moment, I felt that butterflies in the stomach feeling, as Linda and I turned to face each other. Then, for one or two long seconds, we looked at each other, without speaking, as though we were each waiting for the other to make a move. Linda giggled, and “We’ve come this far, and suddenly I don’t know what to do next. I must be out of practice.” I slipped my right arm under her left shoulder, and rolled her over onto myself, as I lay on my back, so she was now lying half on top of me, on my right side. Our faces were close, and I said, “We’re probably both a little out of practice, so we’ll just have to feel our way through, won’t we?”

“My two girls are sleeping over at my sister’s place, so I’m a free agent, all night,” Linda whispered, and she bit her lip for a moment, and swallowed, and then said, “And I like the idea of feeling our way round.” With another girlish giggle, she said, “What would you like to feel first?”

I slipped my right hand around behind her, to unclip her bra, but after a couple of futile fumbles, Linda whispered in my right ear, “What is it with men and bra’s?” and she reached around with her own right hand, and unclipped it in one movement. She raised her eyebrows at me, in triumph, as her bra loosened at the front, and I slipped her right arm out of her bra strap. Linda lifted herself a little, to allow me to slip her sexy red lace bra right off, and I tossed it on the floor to my left. For a moment or two, I took in the sight of her rounded, creamy, smooth-skinned breasts, with their light pink nipples and areola, and I gently moved my left hand under her, to fondle her right nipple with my thumb.

Linda looked at what I was doing, and said nothing for a moment, but as I gently stroked her nipple, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and kissed me, long, and deep, and she sighed the words, “I’m sensitive there, and that is so nice.” She moved herself to a better position, and kissed me, with an open mouth this time, accompanied by some gentle, but incredibly sexy tongue action, as I gently fondled her nipple, and I brought my right hand around to caress the small of her back. Linda brought her right leg over, between my legs, so our pelvises were pressed together, even though she still had her panties on and, and I was still wearing my underpants, and as my rampant cock pressed against her right hip, she said, with our mouths almost touching, “And I’m not the only one getting excited.”

I continued to gently caress Linda’s nipple with my left thumb, and I moved my right hand down to her bottom, caressing her there through her lace panties, as she kissed me passionately on the mouth. I moved my hand a little further down, to the crotch of her panties, and I felt the warmth from her pussy through the material. Linda broke the hot, sexy kiss and whispered, “Let me take them off.”

Linda lifted her pelvis, and used both hands to slip her panties down, taking them off under the covers, and she tossed them onto the floor with her left hand. Linda was now totally naked in the bed with me, and I was wearing just my underpants. I moved my right hand back to her pussy, and I felt first her pubic hair and then her warm, slick wetness. I parted her pussy lips very gently with my fingers, and stroked her there, and Linda said, “You have a nice, gentle touch. I like that.”

Linda’s pussy was oozing fluid, and she bit her lower lip, and then took a deep breath, as I fondled her there for a moment. I took my hand away gently, and I brought it to my mouth. She watched intently as I tasted her sweetish, piquant juices from my fingers, and she took another deep breath, then kissed me hungrily, as though she too wanted to share the taste of her own womanhood.

“That was such a sexy thing for you to do,” she whispered, as we broke the kiss, “You’re making me so excited.”

I slipped my right hand back down under the covers, down past Linda’s bottom again, to caress her oozing pussy, parting the lips, and stroking her gently, and she moved her own right hand to my hard cock, fondling it through the material of my underpants. Linda narrowed her eyes, and took another deep breath in response to my caress, and she said, “Kevin, you can feel how wet I am, and I can feel how hard you are. I love foreplay, but let’s just do this thing.” She kissed me deeply, again, and sighed the words, “I can’t wait any longer.”

“I hope you weren’t looking for an argument,” I said, and I started to slip my own underpants off, and Linda gently helped me with her right hand. “Do you mind if I get on top?” she asked, “I’d just like to be in control for a bit, while I’m having my way with you.”

“Go on,” I answered, speaking softly, but almost exploding with excitement and anticipation, as Linda moved over on top of me, still under the covers. She braced herself with her left hand, and used her right hand to guide my rigid cock to her oozing pussy, wiggling and undulating her pelvis to get everything in place. As I felt the head of my cock touching the wet, slippery entrance to her pussy, she whispered, “Just like riding a bike. You never forget how.” She moved her pelvis, taking about half of my cock in one slow, exquisitely exciting movement, and she added, “Although, I’ve almost forgotten how good it feels.”

Linda began to move her pelvis gently, but with only half the length of my cock inside herself with each stroke, and she said, “You don’t mind if I take it slowly and make this last, do you?” She took a soft but deep breath through her mouth, and said, “It’s been so long, Kevin, I just want to take my time with you.”

Almost instinctively, I wanted to thrust up inside Linda’s warm, wet, inviting pussy, but knowing she wanted to do this at her own pace, I simply lay there, embracing her to myself, as she fucked me, sweetly and gently, moving her pelvis in short, shallow strokes, teasing and tantalising both of us with her beautiful body. “If you want to make it last,” I said, pausing to swallow, “go ahead, we’ve got all night. There’s no hurry.” Linda didn’t answer, and just moved her head down to kiss me deeply, her tongue doing some serious exploration of my mouth, fuelling my desire for her even more.

Linda took the weight on her elbows, and began to take the tiniest bit more of my cock inside herself with her gentle thrusting, and looking me in the eyes, she said, “Deeper?” I nodded, but she just kept moving the same way, taking no more, smiling so mischievously as she pleasured herself with my unyielding cock.

“Faster?” she said, her pretty eyes sparkling, as she began thrusting just a tiny bit more quickly, but no deeper, as I fought the need to push myself right inside. “Not too fast,” I said, “You’ll finish me off. I won’t be able to control it,” and I could hear the strain in my own voice.

“Oohh,” Linda said, with a teasing lilt in her voice, “Mr Roberts might lose control! We can’t have that,” as she slowed her rhythm just enough to keep me below boiling point. She kissed me again, with another deep, sexy kiss, and said, “But, then maybe I’ll be the one who loses control. You never know.” I moved my hands down to her buttocks, just allowing them to rest there, so she was free to move the way she wanted, as I felt the smooth, warm skin against my palms, and Linda began to thrust a tiny bit deeper, taking more of me inside her snug, wet pussy, but still keeping the slow, gentle rhythm.

Linda kept up that sexy motion for a few more moments, kissing me deeply as she moved her pelvis, and after breaking one of her soft, deep kisses, she said, “I think it’s time to get serious,” and she swallowed, took a deep breath, lifted her pelvis so only the very tip of my cock remained inside the entrance of her pussy, and she thrust down hard, taking my whole cock inside with one movement. Her eyes widened, as she drove me into herself, and I tilted my pelvis for maximum penetration, and she made a little gasping sound, and said, “You saw that coming, didn’t you?”

No,” I said, “but I had a feeling you were going to do something like that.”

She had a nice, steady rhythm going now, as I kept tilting my pelvis to meet her, and I heard her take a slightly shuddering breath, and she said, “Kevin, I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer. It’s too good.”

“That’s okay,” I said, moving my arms up her back, holding her close, but letting her keep that sweet movement going, “Just go for it.” I pulled her head down to kiss her sweet, pretty mouth again, and she said, “Hold me Kevin. Hold me while I’m coming. Just hold me!”

Linda began to thrust harder, driving my cock right inside, breathing through her mouth, swallowing, gasping, and she said, a little louder now, and with an edge to her voice, “Oh, God, that’s so good!” She lifted her head and focussed her eyes in the distance, thrusting harder and faster, and both her breathing and her thrusting became more ragged, as her orgasm approached.

Linda’s beautiful body was giving me incredible sexual pleasure as it was, but seeing her on the threshold of her own climax, and knowing I would soon join her in an explosion of ecstasy, just ramped up my own excitement, but I held on, fighting the need to surrender to my own body’s craving for sweet release. Linda’s straightened her arms, lifting herself in the bed, still thrusting hard and deep, while I continued to hold her tight, and I saw a look of rapture on her face, as she cried out, “Ohhh, Kevin!! That is so good! That’s a-mazing!!” I felt the walls of her snug pussy tightening around my cock, as her thrusting drove me as deep into her as I could go, and I gave in. Linda’s lovely body was too good for me, and I could resist no longer. My own orgasm ignited in me, and I felt myself coming inside her, spurt after spurt, each one accompanied by a wave of pure, sweet pleasure.

For a few precious seconds, all I knew was the crystalline ecstasy that Linda had given to me, and as the moment passed, and reality returned, I realised she was still gently thrusting, making sure I was finished, seeing this wonderful thing she had started right through to the end. “All done?” she asked breathlessly, and I nodded, breathing a little heavily myself, so she stopped her thrusting, and kissed me once again, a little more gently this time, and then she relaxed, lying on top of me as I held my arms around her.

“That was beautiful,” Linda said, still a little breathless, and she moved her head on my chest so she could look at me, and she said, “Just hold me for a minute. Just let me hold you.” We both lay there like that for a few minutes, holding each other, with Linda lying on top of me, and we barely spoke, two people just enjoying the moment.

After a while, Linda looked at the bedside clock, and she said, “Well, Kevin, we can either stay here together, or go back to the reunion. What do you reckon?”

“There’s a room full of people I haven’t seen for twenty years,” I answered, as I gently caressed her lower back with my right hand, “That’s Option A.” I used my left hand to brush her hair off her face, and I looked in her eyes and said, “Or there’s you in here with me. I think I like Option B better.”

We didn’t get back to the reunion that night. Linda and I stayed in my room, talking, laughing, making love again, drinking champagne, and getting to know each other. We fell asleep in each other’s arms, and in the middle of the night, we woke up to make love one more time. Once again, I felt a sense of wonder at this moment fate had given me, as I lay there, watching Linda as she slept, and I felt a pang of sadness that it would have to end.

Linda and I were two people who had known each other since kindergarten, but we hadn’t seen each other since we were eighteen. Back then, we weren’t friends, but now we had so much more in common.

Very well written, and I have to second that comment about them not being imaginative people with enormous proportions. Instead it has a very realistic touch to it, it doesn't try and be more then what it is, and that's wonderful. Fantastic, 10 out of 10 no less. Would love to see more. :)